


these things they take time (I especially am slow)

by TheTruthAboutLove



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Intimacy, Introspection, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-12 09:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17464559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTruthAboutLove/pseuds/TheTruthAboutLove
Summary: “Loving you feels like I’ll never know what loneliness feels like ever again. Or heartbreak. Or despair. You make everything alright. You make everything worth it. You’ve soaked my bones so deeply, my body will never forget what if feels like to be in love with you."Sara has everything set for a weekend trip. Ava asks for how long the beach house is booked for and Sara says “as long as it takes, we'll be done when we're done, maybe we'll stay a year and you'll be back Sunday evening so you'll be at work Monday morning, forget about the concept of time, we're existing out of it for a while” and Ava knows better than to ask again.ORAfter someone at work uses the C-word referring to Ava, Sara notices something has been going on for a while, even before Mick called her "Sara's fake girlfriend". Sara arranges a trip so that Ava can rediscover what being herself means and finally accepts who she is and that she is real, that what they have is as real as it gets.





	1. this is the first day of my life

**Author's Note:**

> Set after 4x08 and during the haitus, canon compliant. Ava sets on a journey to rediscover herself and her relationship with Sara. Starts out as Sara's POV, then shifts to Ava.
> 
> Two-Shot, second part is shorter and will be up very soon.
> 
> Enjoy the read!

There is something easy about dying. That’s not to say it’s not excruciatingly painful for the longest part, but at some point the desperation fades, you resign yourself to your own body betraying you and you stop fighting back. And then, for a moment, there’s calm. The noise fades, the colors dim, your muscles unclench. And there’s peace.

Sara has done it all already a couple times over, coming back and finding new things worth dying for. Until she finds something she wasn’t really looking for; something worth living for.

  
  


There are times the darkness within her clutches her heart steadily, making its presence known, reminding her love doesn’t come for free. There have always been stipulations, secrets, lies, sometimes literal torture, for her to endure to keep love. She wonders what the price will be for something that comes with none of that, someone who loves her with no lies or secrecy or stipulations, someone who gives Sara everything she could have ever wanted and so much more. The darkness whispers to her that, sometimes, the pieces with no price label are the most expensive ones, and just because you touch something without knowing its price doesn’t mean you won’t have to pay for it.

Sara knows Ava Sharpe is no painting. She isn’t something that can be conceived – someone did try and Ava defied her own code because fuck that, she’ll be her own person despite logic and science and everything else in the way.

Sara sees her, really sees her, when she smiles, small and almost shy, her hair thrown over one shoulder, the light of the portal shining behind her like an halo, and has no doubt that Ava Sharpe is an angel, above everything else she is.

Maybe not in the mystic sense, maybe not even in any other sense at all, except for what she is to Sara: redemption, salvation, absolution, solace.

She never thought about God much, but if there’s a Being who controls it all, she only has one prayer she hopes They can hear: if there is one thing in all her life that is gonna go her way, she wants it to be this. Them. Her time with Ava.

  
  


There are other times the darkness lurks and creeps up on her.

The night Zari almost dies, when Ray is injured and Sara stays in the med bay holding their hands with her own, she thinks she’ll never be able to get the smell of blood out of her nose. She’s seen her fair share, bled more than her fair share, but this is different. This is her family's. They both make it, Gideon is a super AI after all, and she finds herself sitting on the edge of Ava's bed at 3 am with her hands dripping red and her clothes stained in brown. Of course she went back - you don’t almost kill a Legend and live to tell the tale, not if Sara Lance has seen your face.

She wishes she could regret it, the vengeance, the calm fury. Instead she barely remembers it as it is. Her hands are dripping red and if Charlie hadn't stopped her she would have killed the two idiots who almost murdered Zari. She almost slipped back right into it. That darkness that lurks and waits for her to finally snap back.

When her eyes focus again Ava is staring up at her, kneeling on the floor, dressed in an old t-shirt and flannel pj’s bottoms and looking at her with concern in her eyes.

Her angel. God, Ava deserves so much better than this. Than someone who sneaks into her bedroom in the middle of the night because she's too scared she's still a monster to be away from the one person who makes her feel like she can be good again.

Her hand goes up and she tucks a strand of her behind Ava's ear, touching her cheek softly, staining it red as she goes.

Her heart drops and she wonders if that is what she has been doing all along. Tainting something perfect with her damaged hands. Her eyes fill with tears and she knows she’s about to shatter, when Ava takes her face in her hands and whispers: “I’m here. Whatever you need, I’m here baby. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

And Sara wants to believe her so badly, so badly.

She doesn’t focus on anything else, she just tries to channel her senses on the gentle hands pulling at her clothes and the kind eyes scanning her body and the soft words whispered in her ears and before she knows it she's standing in the shower and Ava is washing away the blood on her hands. She looks at the wrinkle on her forehead, she's so focused on a persistent stain and when Sara looks down Ava is scratching the blood from her nails as delicately as she can and, not for the first time, Sara wonders if Ava's gonna be the one person who makes her hands feel clean after everything they've taken.

Then, Ava looks up.

Her eyes are clear and the wrinkle’s gone and she looks at Sara with a fondness that slithers through every crack in her chest - and wow, does she have a few of those. And Lord, this woman is so perfect, not in the clone-of-the-perfect-woman way, that's dumb. She's perfect with her flaws and feelings that aren't always good, and she isn't always good, she isn't even always likeable, and Sara loves it so much, loves her when she's bitchy and stubborn and stupidly smug. Sara thinks Ava's way more perfect like she is than like she was programmed to be. Rip talked about her like a factory defect. Sara thinks she's a miracle.

She sinks down to her knees and presses her face to Ava's stomach and whispers:

“You're the love of my life. The light of my life.”

And when she feels fingers pull at her hair so Ava can pry away her face for a moment, Sara thinks Ava is going to pull her up and she feels so heavy, so heavy, she doesn't think she'll be able to stand. Instead, Ava drops in front of her and pulls her closer, pulls their foreheads together and says: “You're the love of mine, the light of mine.”

Sara isn't pulled up when she can't stand, instead Ava holds her still and doesn't let her sink further to the ground, Ava is beside her where she can be and doesn't force her to be someone she's not ready to be, something she's not ready to be.

Sara presses her nose to Ava’s neck and she feels warm and safe enough to cry like she hasn’t in a while. She cries until she can’t stand it anymore, until the water is cold and her body’s shaking and her head is throbbing and her fingertips are trembling. She cries until she’s ready to stand and that’s when Ava pulls her up and out of the shower.

And Sara might be cold and heartbroken, but she’s so far away from the woman she was the day before she fell in love with Ava Sharpe. When she could feel nothing but darkness and void. When she thought dying and coming back meant she would never feel things deep again.

She feels Ava so deep that she wonders if maybe that feeling was there first and Sara was simply born around it.

  
  


There are nights she feels so light she wonders if maybe she could fly. She feels twenty again and younger still, she feels like putting on a green costume and being Peter Pan again. Ava is the greatest adventure she’s ever known.

Because there are nights, when everything she feels is warm and soft and happy. There is no darkness there, even with the lights out and the moonlight casting shadows on their bodies. She sits on Ava’s legs, her own calves crossed behind Ava’s back, her arms wrapped around her shoulders and Ava’s fingers tracing the edges of her spine.

Sara could get lost in those blue eyes forever, she could stay like this a lifetime and she’ll still want to be here some more. It’s so easy to love Ava Sharpe, so natural to her, like someone accidentally taught her how to along with learning how to ride her bike and she can't forget how to do either. Like it’s embed inside her.

“Do you know,” Ava’s voice is so soft and her lips are tracing the lines of Sara’s collarbones. “Do you know how much I love you?”

Sara pulls her hair and sinks her head to Ava’s neck, presses her lips to her neck, softly, softly. She bites down and then soothes it with her lips again, then trails a wet path up to Ava’s jaw and presses her lips right on the edge of it.

“How about, I tell you how it feels to love you and you tell me if I’m close?”

She feels Ava’s chest shake slightly and hears the chuckle next to her ear but doesn’t move away from the skin she’s kissing.

Ava nods and Sara scoots closer, until there is no space, no space left between them whatsoever because it feels unbearable right now that there is an inch of their skin not pressed together.

She holds Ava tighter and looks down into her eyes, feels Ava’s arms steady her with ease and familiarity.

“It feels like, when you’ve been at the beach for too long, and you’ve lied in the sun all day, and the warmth has soaked your bones so deeply than even when you’re in the shadow you still feel the tingle of the sun, like you’re never going to be cold ever again.”

Her nose presses against the skin of Ava’s neck and she feels delicate warm lips on her cheek.

“Loving you feels like I’ll never know what loneliness feels like ever again. Or heartbreak. Or despair. You make everything alright. You make everything worth it.”

Everything is the word Sara chooses on instinct and then she has to stop and her next breath takes a moment longer to come because everything is _a lot_. She’s been to hell and through it and back again and worse. She’s done things and things have been done to her that she can never quite recover from. It’s been a lifetime of darkness and coldness and Ava’s so fucking bright and warm and it sinks just then how much what she said is true.

Ava fixed her. She would insist that Sara was never broken but Sara has felt broken and shattered even, and now it’s like every crack has been filled with gold.

“You’ve soaked my bones so deeply, my body will never forget what if feels like to be in love with you.”

She doesn’t want to say she’s never loved anyone like this before (but she hasn’t) or she never will again (she won’t) or that she never knew it was even possible (it’s all true, but she doesn’t say it) but she thinks Ava might know.

“Yeah,” her voice is raspy and her heart is racing. “Yes, Sara, I think you’re pretty close.”

Sara feels so light she’s sure that if she brings her arm up her fingertips will catch a cloud, but her fingertips are already tracing Ava’s shoulder blades and she can’t bring herself to pry them away long enough to try.

  
  


It’s because of this. It’s because she thinks of Ava as her rock, as her perfect savior, that she doesn’t catch the first few clues she should’ve seen.

By the time she knows what's happening, it's been going on for a while. The nights Ava cries herself to sleep are increasing and she's not getting better at all. Sara isn't there for a lot of those, she's off on her ship sending mystical creatures back to whatever hole they crawled out of, and even when she's not she's too caught up in Charlie being abrasive and John being secretive and Mick being Mick.

Ava's perfect, so Sara isn't looking for something to go wrong. That's how it sneaks past her.

The thing that stings the most is that she wasn't there in time. She has a time ship, she's a time traveler, she has been a very punctual person ever since the League of Assassins trained her out of her rebel phase. And yet. And yet she's not there in time.

Instead, Nate is. Gary calls her after, when the worst part is over, and tells her Director Sharpe has had a panic attack at work. She portals right into her office, and Nate is holding Ava's hand to his chest, not tightly, that's not why she's gasping, why she's out of breath.

“Easy. Easy. Five in-” he waits five seconds, breaths in as Ava does “-five out,” they breathe out together, steady and long. “There you go. One last time. Five in, five out.”

Ava has one hand on her own sternum and one on Nate's, so she can feel him breathe, feel the contact without feeling crowded, and Nate is holding the hand on his chest, the other is on Ava's shoulder, firm and steady.

“This was bad, maybe your worst one yet, but you did amazing. You're okay,” Nate whispers and it's soft and right and Sara doesn't know if she wants to clear her voice or slip out of the room because Nate seems to be good at this, good for Ava, and Sara isn't sure she would be good enough.

“I'm okay,” Ava echoes. And just like that, they let go of each other. “Thank you.”

Nate shakes his head, as if he wants to tell her there's no need for that, and that's when he sees Sara watching them silently from a few feet away. Ava turns to look at what has caught his attention and she shifts her weight on her feet like she's suddenly unsteady again.

“Can you give us a minute?”

Nate smiles and makes himself scarce, closing the door behind him as he goes.

Sara walks fourteen and a half of the fifteen feet between them and lets Ava close the gap in her own time. She tells Sara how one recruit whispered to another a joke about Ava being one of those government clones, she tells her about the room going silent, all eyes drifting to her. She tells Sara about the panic attacks she's been having on and off since she found out, about how Nora has taught her some coping mechanisms – Sara didn't even know they were getting that close. She tells her about how Nate has been there, a few times, being her right arm and all that. About how he's never judged her, about Gary having her back with the board. Ava has a support system, Sara realizes, and she hasn't been a part of it and she doesn't really understand why.

It's a number of things, she supposes. Her being distracted, Ava being too insecure, and there was never really a good time to bring it up either. Ava had tried, after Mick's comments about her being Sara's fake girlfriend, but there was never really a proper occasion to elaborate on it.

So, Sara decides, she has to make that occasion for them.

  
  


Sara has everything set for a weekend trip. Ava asks for how long the beach house is booked for and Sara says “as long as it takes, we'll be done when we're done, maybe we'll stay a year and you'll be back Sunday evening so you'll be at work Monday morning, forget about the concept of time, we're existing out of it for a while” and Ava knows better than to ask again.

Wherever they are – Ava is ninety-five percent sure it's Spain – it's summer, probably June, probably between 2010 and 2020. Possibly the present.

They arrive near sunset and Sara dumps their bags in the house and leads Ava out back by the hand, the beach isn't private but it's late enough that none of their neighbors are outside anymore, or yet, so they can sit in silence and watch as the lights fade out. They're facing East, so there's no sun, but it's still pretty to see the colors change from blue to black.

“I've never taken a vacation. Never went to the beach before.”

“You've _never_ -”

“One of the others took a few personal days, once. Went to Vegas to help my- _her_ ex move. It was an amicable parting. Why wouldn't it be, I was programmed to be calm and controlled and- well, the others were,” the laugh is bitter and she can't explain why.

It comes off as if she's jealous the others couldn't feel anything beyond their own programming and maybe she is, maybe that was for the best, because whatever that must have been like it was sure as hell a lot better than being a factory defect.

“I have memories of the sea. Of going with my parents when I was a teenager. Of course, I've never been a teenager so no, I've _never_ been to the beach.”

“I didn't mean it like that.”

But she did, Ava knows she did, she said like it was weird for a person who allegedly grew up in Fresno, a two hours car trip away from the beach, to have never seen the sea. But she never even went to Fresno. And she had no idea how to even explain to Sara that she never saw the actors who played her parents, she spoke to them once or twice, but the only clone who visited them more was number three, the others all barely ever saw them and Ava never even did. She knew their faces, had all the memories of them, but no real ones. Not even one.

“I'm... younger than what I thought. Rip said there were twelve of us in five years, but he didn't- he never said when I was brought in. I looked it up, Gideon helped. She also helped with fixing some memories, I now have conscious knowledge of which memories are real and which are implanted from previous clones or Rip's programming.”

“You'll make new memories. You've seen the sea, you're going to see everything else you want to see too and it won't matter what your fake memories say, you'll make real ones.”

“It's not just-” Ava feels a lump in her throat and it doesn't improve when she feels Sara weaving her fingers through her own. “It's my programming.”

Sara waits for her to say something else, but she doesn't. She can't.

She closes her eyes and tries to memorize how the sand feels beneath her toes, or how the wind is cold against her skin, or how Sara's hand feels in her own.

It seems pointless, because those things are already imprinted in her memory, but she does it anyway. Relearning everything she knows is better than trying to explain to Sara that eleven clones in five years means an average of five months and a half per clone. Ava has lived twice as long already and she doesn't know how to tell Sara what it means in terms of how old was she when they met. How long she had really lived, how much she'd done and felt and discovered on her own before Sara. It feels like lying, but some things are better not explained. No matter how much they eat at her.

“Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow, you can swim for the first time.”

Ava feels like crying when she thinks about the public pool in Fresno where her mother taught her how to swim or about that time in high school she went skinny dipping with her friends. The memories, of course, aren't real. She isn't real.

“Yeah. Yes, let's get some sleep.”

Ava lies awake, thinking about the ocean and water temperatures and surface pressure and how long can clones go without sleeping. She's so in love with the woman next to her and she can't, won't explain to her why she can't fix Ava, so she closes her eyes and pretends to be asleep. She wonders if she'll ever be brave enough to tell her everything and she wonders after how many days Sara will finally give up on her.

  
  


The first day starts out easily. Ava cooks breakfast and they go out back, sunbathing for a while, holding hand between their towels and Ava feels the sand under her fingertips every time they slightly shift. The sun soak their bones and she remembers Sara telling her this is what it feels like to love her.

“Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. If there's one thing I never doubt is that I'm in love with you like you soaked my bones so deeply I'll never forget what it's like.”

Sara smiles so brightly and scoots over, invades her towel, lies half on top of her. It's so messy and so Sara and Ava really thought, a moment before, she couldn't possibly love her more. But God, Sara puts that statement to the test because everything she does makes Ava fall deeper.

“I love you, too.”

Sara kisses her once, twice, then pecks her cheek and nudges her side.

“Now come on, let's go for a swim.”

It's starting to feel warmer and the family staying on the house left of theirs is starting to make their way out just when they leave the beach for the water. They make it to the shore before Ava stops and pulls Sara back, making her turn around.

“What if I can't swim?”

“There's only one way to find out.”

“What if I don't _like_ to swim?”

“Well, then we'll buy some books and suntan and chill on the beach, and never set foot in the water again. Or maybe we'll just go to a cottage in Alaska and drink hot cocoa in front of a fireplace with a blanket over our shoulders. Or whatever else you think you'd like. You name it, we'll go. We'll learn what you like, what you hate, what you love. This is what this journey's about, Ava. We're here to discover what you want.”

Ava looks at her with the same wrinkle on her forehead as the night she washed out blood from Sara's hands, like she's concentrating too hard and can't quite figure out what's next. But then, same as that night, the wrinkle evens out and Ava's eyes are clear and soft and she drags Sara into the water like a woman on a mission.

Ava Sharpe loves the water, loves the ocean, loves to swim and play into the sea, loves how it feels to hold Sara in her arms like she weights nothing at all. Ava Sharpe loves Sara. She just loves all of it.

They're drying up on their towel that's still too big with both of them lying on it, and Ava is on her stomach and staring at Sara who's lying on her back with her eyes closed. The sun is making her hair look lighter and her freckles look darker and the droplets on her skin are mesmerizing.

“You're staring,” Sara whispers like it's a secret and opens one eye to look at her sideways.

Ava murmurs an apology and turns her head down, but after a few moments her eyes drift to Sara again. Sara smirks but tries to conceal it. She scoots close and plants her elbows on the towel to look down at Ava, one hand traces Ava's spine and she waits patiently.

“There is something you should know. But I can't tell you yet, not today, not tomorrow, probably not this week and possibly not this month, but there's something I know that you should know as well.”

“Okay. When you're ready, then.”

“Yeah. Yes, when I'm ready.”

Sara bows and kisses her cheek, her jaw, her shoulder. She starts humming a song on Ava's skin and before Ava knows it they're singing (badly) and laughing and the thing that Ava has been carrying, is forgotten again.

  
  


She's coming down the stairs, barely awake, and Sara is moving the couch and the armchairs around, adjusting thin mattresses on the floor in front of the tv, smiling to herself.

“What are you doing?”

“We're learning yoga today. And then I'll teach you to break dance. And then-”

“Slow down, you're too awake.”

Ava walks to her and slumps in her arms, face going to hide between her neck and her shoulder. Sara just chuckles and rubs her back lovingly.

“You're too cute. I'll get you some coffee, babe.”

Sara kisses her forehead, her nose, her cheek. It's so soft Ava can feel herself melting. She wonders if Sara will still love her like this in a day, a week, a year, only to realize it doesn't matter: they're living outside of time, Sara said. At least for now, their love is timeless. It's forever.

Ava Sharpe likes yoga, hates hip-hop and break dancing, but she could keep learning it for the rest of her life, if teaching her is always going to make Sara smile _like that_.

They end up laughing on the floor, sweaty and aching, their heads close and their hands intwined, and when Sara says something flirty, Ava laughs like she hasn't in a while, laughs until her stomach is tense and her cheeks are hurting, laughs until Sara rolls on top of her and kisses her breathless.

  
  


They next day, at dawn, they start walking knee-deep in the water for miles and miles, holding hands and talking and Sara tells her everything Ava wants to know, no matter how painful or difficult and it's a testament to how committed to this Sara is.

They're walking back and are almost home when Sara plants her feet in the sand and tells her she's seen something under water in the deeper sea and wants to check it out, she starts to pull at Ava's hand but Ava's not budging. She lets go of her hand suddenly and Sara falls into water so spectacularly clumsily for an assassin. Ava has never seen something as cute in her life.

“You are _so_ going to regret that,” Sara threatens and before Ava knows it they're fighting and chasing each other around, and one of the neighbor's kids is yelling “water fight!” and there are four kids chasing them around until they're forced to raise their metaphorical white flag.

They get to the shore and introduce themselves to the people sunbathing – Carol and Mark. Carol is their neighbor, she and her husband, Jim, are the parents of three of the four kids. Mark is in the next house over and the fourth kid is his. The kids ask if they want to make a sand castle and Ava looks at them to make sure it's okay.

“Honey, we've been making sand castles for a week, if you can spare us one, we'll be nothing but grateful.”

Sara, Zack and Kim start on the sand castle, while Grace – Carol's youngest one – and Michael – Mark's kid – insist on showing Ava all the seashells they've collected so far. There's a bucket of them. A lot have their own story. It takes all day to get through all of them, but it's worth it when Ava looks up at Sara building the biggest, bendiest sand castle Ava has ever seen and there's a feeling in her chest, like a string is pulling at her heart.

It's later, when they're making dinner, Ava's cooking and Sara is setting the table, that she brings it up.

“I think kids are okay.”

Sara hums.

“I think, maybe- I think I'd like to raise one or two.”

Sara is opening the wine and she's focused on not breaking the cork so there aren't pieces inside when she pours it, but she hums again absentmindedly.

“Not by myself,” Ava tries to gauge her reaction further, tries to open a dialogue, tries to at least get a reaction out of Sara.

But when Sara chuckles, that's a reaction that baffles her.

“Well, I don't imagine how you could raise a kid by yourself in our home. It'd be confusing for all of us,” she chuckles again, then turns to Ava. “Oh. You're serious. You're asking- _oh_. Okay, sorry, I was- yeah, I'd like a kid or two. I'd like to adopt but if you want to carry-”

“I don't even know if that's possible. But in any case, adoption sounds like the best option to me, too.”

“Cool. I'm glad we're on the same page.”

“Cool,” Ava echoes, trying to sound as casual. “But not, like, now or anything.”

“Of course,” Sara nods. “When we're settled and married and stuff.”

“Married?”

“Not that- not that we _have_ to. I just-”

“I'd like that,” Ava says quietly, but she looks down and her voice shakes. “I don't know if we can. You're dead and I'm not real.”

“If you want that, I'll find a way. 'Cause I'm alive now and you're so, so real. We'll find a way, in due time.”

Ava nods, goes back to the cooking, and doesn't bring it back up.

  
  


The fourth day starts with relaxing and reading and then sunbathing. Ava goes for a swim and when she's walking out she sees Sara staring from the back porch with an adoring expression. She's wet and there's salt and sand on her skin, and Sara is wearing a shirt and shorts but as soon as Ava is close enough Sara hugs her close and clings to her like she's never going to let go ever again.

“Come on, little koala. I'm starving.”

Sara hums and instead of letting go she jumps a little to cling to Ava in full-on koala mode.

“What's wrong, my love?”

“Nothing. The opposite,” Sara's voice is muffled by Ava's neck. “You're _so_ right. I can't believe you love me back.”

Ava feels her heart pick up its pace, there are tears forming in her eyes. She sighs contentedly and hugs Sara close, then starts walking bringing Sara along with her. Lunch can wait.

  
  


They spend a whole afternoon sparring, Sara teaches her a few new moves from obscure martial arts Ava has barely heard the name of. She likes it, she likes learning, she likes hand-to-hand combat, she likes doing it with Sara.

“I thought it might be just a thing I learned and did 'cause I had to, but nope,” her breath is ragged and she probably shouldn't be smiling up at Sara, who's looking so smug after knocking her on her bum again, but she can't quite help herself. “Turns out, I just like to fight the everliving shit out of things. And people. And especially you. And I especially like what it does to you when you watch me fight.”

Sara smirks. “Director Sharpe,” she says, and her voice is low and Ava knows that inflection in her voice like the back of her hand. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Oh, Captain Lance. I think we're _well_ past that.”

  
  


Carol and Jim invite them over for dinner, tell them it'd be nice to have two new faces around. When they get there, two bottles of wine and a board game for the kids, Sara can tell Ava is tense and fidgety and she doesn't understand what she's nervous about.

Until, that is, Mark shows up and introduces them to his husband, Nick, Micheal's other parent, and Ava lets out a breath she probably didn't even know she had been holding. When Sara takes her hand, she doesn't pat it and move away, instead she holds back. And Sara knows they'll need to talk about this later.

The dinner, unbelievably, goes smoothly. They ask about their jobs and Ava says she works for an FBI branch, Sara says she's a freelance working under Ava and that's how they met. They talk about the book Carol's reading and the new show Mark and Jim are obsessing about and then Sara brings up they're from Star City and the questions about the resident superheroes keep the rest of the evening occupied.

It's fun and easy. Ava likes double-dating, she likes grown ups things, like talking about books or art or even shows. Ava likes dinner parties. Sara is, quite frankly, not surprised.

They get back home and Ava goes to sit on their couch heavily. It's not that late and Sara prays she wants to talk about what happened before, why she was nervous, why she wasn't anymore. She sits down next to Ava and waits. She doesn't have to wait long.

“He needed a reason why I didn't talk to any of my high school friends. Or any relative, or even barely to my parents. He needed to make it believable, to make it so I would never try to get in touch with them.”

“You mean Rip?”

“Yeah,” Ava's voice is light, is soft if a little raspier than usual. “I have memories of coming out at seventeen and they all took it so badly none of my friends or family spoke to me after I left. My family disowned me and my parents resented me for it. And I know- I know it's not real, that none of it even happened, but anytime I have to come out to someone I just-”

“I can't even imagine,” Sara whispers and holds her hands, turning to face her.

“I never do it if it's not absolutely necessary. When I saw Mark and Nick- it was like this giant weight was lifted off my shoulder because I didn't need to say anything, I could just _be_ and they would understand.”

Sara nods, encouraging, grounding.

“It pisses me off. It pisses me off to no end that I'm traumatized by something that never even happened to me.”

“You have memories of it, feelings about it. You've processed it. You've dealt with it. And that's real, Ava. But it doesn't mean we can't work past that, if you want, if you'll let me. I want so bad to show you that it gets better, that you can come out and- sure, sometimes someone's a dick, but a lot of times nothing happens. We can walk down a street holding hands and nothing will happen.”

“I want to believe that so badly, I do.”

“Slowly,” Sara says. “Step by step. We'll get there, when you're ready. You could talk about this with someone or-”

Ava shakes her head. “The truth is, just like everything else, the memories I have of it – of coming out – aren't real. I have to remember that and make new, real ones.”

“Okay. Okay, we can do that.”

Ava nods. “You don't know how much it means to me that you're willing to go through this with me. I know it sucks, and I know I should do this alone, but-”

“No. No, you shouldn't. You'll never be alone, baby. You have me, and you have Nate and Nora and Gary, Ray and don't tell her I told you this but Zari thinks you're a badass and we'll all be here as long as you want us to be, as long as you need us. You're not alone.”

Sara hugs her and the angle is weird and it's uncomfortable, but they still manage to make it work. It's probably the first time Ava lets herself believe that things could eventually work out just fine.

  
  


They've been there for a week, when their neighbors leave. Apparently the houses have been rented by someone else for the weeks to come. Grace leaves them a drawing and Micheal gives them each a necklace that's just a string with a pierced seashell hanging on it.

The day the houses are empty, they have the beach for themselves.

Ava doesn't like sex on the beach, not the cocktail, nor the real thing. It's messy and there's sand in places there should _not_ be sand in. Ava doesn't like skinny dipping at night. It's too cold and too dark and even if Sara makes it worth her while, she prefers to go swimming when the water's warm and the sun is up.

“Oh, thank God,” Sara sighs. “I'm too old for this, I've never been so cold and I think I still have some sand from this morning in weird places. Both are crossed off the list though.”

Ava laughs and shakes her head, but she's glad they tried it and she knows Sara is, too. She's also glad they're on the same page about it not happening ever again.

  
  


The houses stay empty for a blessed thirty-six hours. Then, there's young men and loud music and so much, so much beer.

The house next to theirs is housing six boys and the next one over eight girls. Since the boys are messier, they're the ones who host the parties. There's at least twenty people every night, and nobody is ever around during the days, no doubt sleeping off everything that happened the night before. On the third day, they finally meet their neighbors. Or rather, Sara does.

She's sitting on the steps of the porch and she knows her head is below the fence so the guys next door can't see her. She's looking at Ava coming out of the water and she hears one of them swear and call for the some of the others.

“That's our neighbor?”

“She's smoking hot. Wow.”

“Dude, dibs.”

“Like hell, I saw her first.”

“Be gentlemen. Let her choose.”

“We should invite her over.”

“Oh, damn, she's coming to the house. Shush, be cool.”

The three of them wave and give Ava their best smiles. Ava frowns but waves back and goes to walk past them when one of them jogs over to the fence.

“Hey. We're your friendly neighbors. We're throwing a party tonight, just some friends and stuff, you probably heard it the past two nights. If you wanna come over for a while-”

Sara gets up from her spot on the steps and starts to walk to them.

“Oh, damn,” she hears one of the other guys whisper. “Dibs.”

“What did I just say,” the other guy whispers back.

“Hey,” the guy talking to Ava greets her. “I was just telling your friend you two should come over tonight. We got the booze covered, but you can bring whatever you like.”

The guy is tall, blond, handsome. He's smiling at Ava so genuinely that for a moment Sara almost feels sorry for him. Ava, of course, doesn't notice him flirting or looking at her. She's still wet and out of breath and Sara wants to say something but she's too busy following with rapt attention a droplet that is traveling down Ava's neck and down her sternum to pay attention.

“Thank you, it was nice of you to invite us, but-”

“We'll have hot dogs and hamburgers,” one of the other guys says.

“And the girls are bringing over their karaoke.”

“And we've got the beer pong.”

That catches Ava's attention. “Oh, I've never played that.”

“Really? How's that possible? We need to correct that, don't we guys? I can teach you,” he grins cheekily at Ava, who seems still a little clueless.

“Oh please,” Sara scoffs. “We can beat you even if she's never played.”

“Oh, yeah? Those are big words, wanna wager? You come before the party and if we win you stay. If you win we'll bring you guys dinner for the next three days. Hamburgers with whatever you like in them.”

Sara shrugs, and extends her hand. “Name's Sara, by the way.”

“George. These are Kyle and Brad. And what's your name?” His voice is dreamy when he turns to the other woman.

“I'm Ava. And I like my burgers with salad and tomatoes, no condiments.”

“Confident. I like that. It'll be a shame beating you and having to see your face just one night instead of three.”

Sara can see the moment Ava finally starts to understand what the guy's getting at. He's gone before Ava can tell him she is absolutely not interested.

They arrive to the party ten minutes early than what the guys told them, but the party has obviously already started and has been going on for a while if the noise was any indication, but they still managed a polite time of arrival. It's not hard to guess they gave them a later time so they would eat first and play later and would have no choice but stay. They're both wearing shorts and baggy shirts and somehow they still feel overdressed as all the girl in their mid to late twenties are all more or less shirtless and only wearing bikinis on their upper halves.

“This is starting to quickly look like a mistake,” Ava whispers as the demographic sets in.

“Not the worst we'll ever make,” Sara shrugs and heads straight for George. “Hey, we brought a couple of beers.”

He points out a table they can lay them on and when they get back he has two plates for them with burgers already on them. “Salad and tomatoes for the lady,” he gives Ava a cheeky smile.

There is, of course, a small, tiny, persistent part of Sara's mind that wants to deck him right then and there. But there also is a big, flashy part that is just so cocky to be the one who's going home with Ava at the end of the night, there's a shimmer of pride so strong she's surprised people can't see it through her chest.

“Thank you. Sara, however, likes to put a dozen different condiments on hers.”

“Ketchup is fine, but no tomatoes, when you bring it to me tomorrow night,” she smirks and takes the top half off her burger as Ava does the same, putting her tomato on Ava's burger instead. This wasn't the first time it happened and it wasn't lost on George how they did that without having to talk or agree to it, it was just natural.

“So, what do you ladies do for a living?” Brad – the dibs guy, Sara dubbed him – asks.

The engage in small talk until it's time for the beer pong game and Sara teaches her how to play with unwavering patience. They win, but they do drink a lot playing, Sara especially. After three games, when their opponents realize they won't win against them, they leave their spots to someone else and Ava start small talk with some of the girls a house down. Two of them are doctors, there's a lawyer and a business-major. The conversation is still going on, but Ava can see Sara isn't listening anymore. She pushes her slightly aside and, after glancing back to assure nobody's paying any attention to them leaving so early, they sneak back over to their own place.

“Where did you go just then?” Ava asks softly, fondly.

“The girls talking about their jobs-” she pauses and Ava is ready for Laurel-talk, ready to know more about her lawyer job and her career, but Sara surprises her, like she always does. “I wanted to be a doctor when I was young. I started pre-med, you know, before the Gambit and everything.”

She shrugs it off as some random statement and sits down heavily on their couch as soon as they're inside. Ava sits beside her and waits, like Sara did for her.

“I was such a fuck up, Aves,” the admission is whispered to her own hands as Sara brings them up to cover her face. “Dating bad boys and letting that dumb crush on Oliver go on even after he was with my sister. Underage drinking, fighting, petty theft, but I still got into college and I was still gonna- I was going to give it my best try. Then he asked me on that boat and got me drunk and- why would I even go? If I think about that now, I don't- I didn't even really like him that much. Not enough to betray Laurel. But I just wanted to prove I could be better than her at _something_ , anything. I was so _selfish_ and so _stupid_ -”

“Hey, hey. Stop. You were a kid, Sara. You were eighteen, you were a bit of a rebel, no doubt. But you said it yourself, you were going to give it your best shot. Stuff happened to you, stuff way beyond your control, and you still thrived. You're still here, and you're the strongest person I know.”

She feels soft pressure on her chin and caves to it, Ava makes her look up so she can stare into her eyes and it's almost too much, it's almost unbearable, because Sara is about to say something really selfish.

“When I met you- when I realized I loved you,” she whispers almost fearfully, “I didn't want to leave you but I knew I had to, because of what I had become. And I just thought- God, this is gonna sound so awful, but-” there are tears shining in her eyes, but she won't let them fall, won't let them guilt-trip Ava into forgiving her what she's gonna say. “I thought, if I met you then, if I met you at sixteen, you would have saved me. We could've fallen in love and gone to college, I could've been a doctor and you-” her voice trembles.

“I'd have been FBI, probably,” Ava smiles a little at the thought. “And we could have had such a normal, boring life.”

“Got married right out of college.”

“Had a dog and a cat.”

“A couple of kids.”

“And then you found out I was a clone,” Ava says what Sara can't. “And you feel guilty for fantasizing about that? Like I never did?” She traces Sara's cheek with her thumb and bring one of her hands to her lips so she can kiss every knuckle. “I wondered to, what it would've been like, to have met you earlier. To have had a simple life.”

“I was thinking of going back, to when I was young. Give myself your name, maybe your number or address. Some clues on how to find you. I was thinking of telling my younger self to never get on the Gambit, so I wouldn't be the Canary, Rip wouldn't recruit me, time would never break, so Mallus wouldn't be a threat. I was going to break things even more to try and fix them, then Gary came and told us you were missing. I don't know if I would have done it, I was so desperate, I thought I could never get you, not the way I was, not the way I am. If I had, if Gary hadn't turned up and I tried to do that- Ava no Time Bureau means-”

“No me. I would be just another clone in 2231 doing house chores.”

“I'm so sorry. I'm so-”

“Stop. Stop. You didn't. You didn't do it, Sara. You were never going to, I _know_ you.”

“But I was thinking about, I was-”

“I thought about it too. Going back, stopping Rip from ever getting his hands on the first AVA. Couldn't. Saving eleven me meant changing the timeline, so I let them die. For a long time, I thought about it almost everyday, I still wonder if it's not selfish, if I'm not preserving this timeline just so I can exist. A factory defect, a machine who somehow caught emotions. We wouldn't be human if we never thought about changing the past that makes us hurt.”

Sara falls into her arms then, clings to her and whispers apologies into her skin, apologies Ava doesn't want or need, but Sara gives them anyway.

They talk about lighter things as they settle into bed, Sara scoots closer and lays her head on Ava's shoulder, presses a hand to her heart. It's dark, but not so dark that Ava can't see the outlines of Sara's frames or the fingers moving on her chest, tracing her collarbones and then getting back above her heart.

“If the multiverse theory is true,” Sara whispers into the dark, “there's a world, out there, where I'm a doctor and you're an agent, and we're married and living in a big house, and we make pancakes on Sundays and I sit on the counter while you feed me and we laugh so heard our families are worried we're never growing up. And I love you just as much as I do now. Infinitely, that is.”

“I love you so much, it's becoming hard to imagine a place where we love each other more. And as for the happiness... you're teaching me how to get there. We'll get there.”

It's the sureness in Ava's voice that gets her the most.

Sara doesn't know how to tell her than when Mallus got to her, when she thought she was about to die again, for good, there was a moment. A moment when dying seemed easy. After the pain, and the desperation, after she stopped fighting back and before Ava's voice made her start fighting again. There was a moment of calm. And she closed her eyes, and hoped that, when she opened them back, she could be there. In a place where they were too happy and too in love and where loss and tragedy had never touched them. She hoped she could get a glimpse of it, or, if there truly was a merciful being, a better life after death, maybe she could go there for good.

But Ava's lips are on her forehead and her fingers are tracing her spine and Sara thinks, however perfect that place might be, it can't be better than this.

  
  


George and Kyle bring them dinner for three evenings. The catch is they bring over four hamburgers and eat with them on the patio. Sara wonders how they decided which boy would go with George and she can't imagine what Kyle has had to do to win, but oh will she enjoy telling him she's spoken for.

They talk about sports and martial arts, dance and theater, movies and music. They're good company at least, and can weaver through different topics. But Sara doesn't like how George seems to be getting his hopes high on the third night when he tries to land a hand on Ava's leg and she gets up and away without even noticing the attempt, cleaning the dishes of the table.

“Don't take it the wrong way, guys, but I think you've been getting some wrong signals.”

“Nope,” Kyle says with a chuckle. “I got you're not interested. Don't worry, you guys are just a lot of fun to talk to, honestly. We just wanted to be friends, it's been nice to take a breather from the constant summer partying.”

“Okay, then. Glad we're on the same page.”

George is staring through the glass door and into the kitchen, where Ava is washing the dishes so they can bring them back with them.

Well, she's done her fair warning. If he's still hanging on it's on him, Ava doesn't owe them a coming out, especially after the conversation they had about how hard it is for her to do it casually.

When Ava comes back they say their goodbyes and Sara hopes they can just part ways amicably from then on.

  
  


They try to surf and it goes as well as expected. That is to say, it's a mild disaster. Sara asks if she wants to try submersions or maybe windsurfing in higher waters, but makes it clear there are things she can't be there for. Ava is quick to shake her hand and reassure her that the point is for them to try things together and she doesn't care that much about those things, that she'd rather to keep experiencing the everyday life she's missed.

It's deep in the night when the fears come back, all at once. She can't sleep and she's going through some pictures in her phone that remind her of home, when she sees him in the background. The agent who triggered the panic attack at the Time Bureau. It's overwhelming for a moment, it smacks into her and leaves her breathless.

She's not real. Mick is right. The agents were right. Nate was wrong, Sara is wrong. She's not real, she's a factory defect that escaped inspections. She's a flaw, she's-

The panic attacks are still happening, of course. Sara learns to help her through them quickly and Ava has promised to wake her up if she has one in the middle of the night. It still takes her a while, and she opts on calming herself down this time. It's too big, too ugly, she can't let Sara see her like this.

“ _If you can have a fake girlfriend why can't I?”_

“ _She's just programmed like that, probably. I heard she's a clone.”_

“ _An agent that is also replaceable-”_

That she is, like Rip said. Expandable. Replaceable. It's true, she knows it is. In fact, it's all already sorted out for when she goes again. Number Thirteen will take her place, her ashes will be buried in a grave with no name, because her own name, her apartment, her life, will belong to the next AVA. She'll just be forgotten, scattered maybe, so there won't be any need for a grave at all.

She doesn't want to wake Sara, but the moment breathing comes hard and she shift to sit up, the woman beside her stirs. Assassin trained and all that.

“I'm here, baby. I'm here.”

And then- and then.

What if they don't tell the legends. What if they don't tell Sara. What if one day she's herself and the next day someone else is living her life.

“She can't- she can't have you, they can't-”

“Baby, look at me. Don't talk, breath. Breath. I'm here, I'm here.”

“Sara, she can't have you,” she gasps for air that won't come and she knows there are tears on her cheeks because Sara's fingers are brushing them away. She grips Sara's forearms in a death grasp and shakes her head.

“Nobody can take me away from you, I'm right here. I'm here.”

Ava keeps shaking her head, she shuts her eyes closed.

“Breath, Ava. Five in, five out. Breath.”

Sara brings one of her hands to her own chest and Ava knows the drill, they've done it enough times already. She breaths, she counts, she focuses on nothing but the air feeling her lungs. She breaths as deep as her lungs will go, until the pressure in her chest hurts and she holds it in long enough for it to start to sting. Then, she lets it go. Lets it go, slowly. She stops shaking. She stops crying. Eventually, her hold wavers and she lets Sara go.

“I'm sorry.”

“No. No, there's nothing to be sorry about.”

Ava turns ahead, away, brings her knees to her chest and she doesn't have to say “ _I don't believe you_ ” for it to hung between them.

Sara gets up, gathers some blankets in her arms, then offers a hand to Ava without a word. Ava looks at it for the longest time. She wonders if this is when Sara stops trying, if they're going back to the present when Sara finally dumps her for good, but instead, after she takes it, Sara leads her outside.

The sand is cold beneath her feet and she feels numb and hollowed out. They sit, Sara behind her even if she's smaller, scooting until Ava is half laying on her, with her head laid on Sara's shoulder, a blanket beneath them, one wrapped around Sara's shoulder, the third thrown over their legs.

It's dark, and cold, and Ava closes her eyes and feels the sting of the tears still behind them.

“There's a protocol. For when I die.”

She can feel the sharp intake of breath of the woman behind her, but she knows if she doesn't say it now she never will.

“She'll have my memories, the fake ones and the real ones. The Bureau keeps an updated brain and memory scan of me, a replaceable director is every secret agency's wet dream.”

“You're _not_ replaceable.”

Sara's voice is hard and it cracks like she can't stand the thought.

“I am to them.”

It's the truth. It is. So why does it make her want to cry again?

“Rip said so. Mr Heywood-”

“Nate's dad's a dick.”

“There's a protocol and it doesn't involve anybody remembering my death, like the other eleven times, nobody will know. Not my coworkers, not my superiors, not my loved ones. Not you. Just- just Nate. I wanted it to be him, I knew he'd tell you, protocol be damned and all of that Legend nonsense.”

That, at least, makes them both smile for a second, before Ava turns serious again.

“She'll have my name. My apartment, my job, my skills. My memories. She'll be me, in everything but body. She'll be in love with you. And you'll love her back.”

It's said so casually, so calmly, yet it makes Sara's mouth taste like bile.

“Not that I'll _ever_ let you die, so it doesn't even matter,” Sara tells her with a force that startles Ava a little, “but if something happened to you and the Bureau got another AVA, I'd quit and move to a desolated cabin in the woods for the rest of my lonely days, and when mighty adventurers would pass by and seek a place to sleep before going back to their quests I'd let them stay on the couch, and if they asked about my love life I'd point at a picture of you and say you're the love of my life. Either that or I'd burn the world to the ground trying to get you back.”

Ava almost wants to chuckle, she shakes her head.

“No, Sara. You'll _love_ her, you'll have me back. And she'll love you. We can't know if it'll be just me in another vessel or if she'll be her own person, but she'll love you and she'll need you and we both know you'd take her on another journey like this one so she could learn herself from scratch. And it's- when I think about it rationally it's _okay_. If it's me, then great, I'm immortal. If it's not... I won't be here anymore. And I want you to be happy when I'm gone.”

“I'm happiest with you,” Sara protests.

“Exactly. I'd say I want you to move on with someone else, but you've been very adamant about me being the only person you want to spend the rest of your life with,” she smiles and turns to look up at Sara and when their eyes meet she can see Sara's crying. “Hey,” she brushes a tear away and kisses her lips softly. “Hey, it's just- just in case. Like you said, I'm not going anywhere. It's just in case something happens to me, I wanted you to know it'd be up to you. I wouldn't be opposed to you being with her or moving on with someone else or living in a cabin in the woods.”

“Well, too bad,” Sara says, hugs her closer, impossibly tighter. “Because I'm _definitely_ burning the world down until I get _you_ back.”

Ava chuckles and they kiss and it tastes like tears. Ava takes Sara's face in her hands and their foreheads touch softly.

“Seriously, this is my serious answer, okay? Stop thinking about that stupid ass protocol. Stop thinking about dying, please. You and I, are gonna live a long happy life and we're gonna grow old together, baby. Fuck everything else. We're gonna be okay.”

And maybe it's the sureness of Sara's voice, maybe it's the soft sand beneath her, or the warm blankets around them, maybe it's the first ray of sun peeking from the horizon and lightening Sara's features, but Ava believes it, right then. Believes that she's not gonna die so soon, that she might not be the first, or the only, Ava Sharpe, but she's absolutely going to be the last.

They stare at the dawn, as the new day begins, they let it dry their tears and the soreness, as they lay wrapped up in each other without any intention to move.

“We've done pretty much everything we could, haven't we? The sea, the beach- I guess... I guess it's time,” Ava says reluctantly.

“You're ready to go back?” Sara seems hesitant and all but happy to comply.

“Not really.”

“Good. Because, babe, this was just our first stop. Come on, we have to pack.”

Ava doesn't know what Sara means, but she really can't wait to find out.

  
  


 


	2. I swear I was blind before I saw you

Sara doesn't let her pack much, just the toiletries and undergarments and some of their clothes, then tells her to leave the rest of their stuff where it is, so it's there if they want to come back or they can pack it up eventually. Ava understands less and less but shrugs and, for once, listens to Sara without arguing.

When Sara sets the Time Courier, location exact to the inch and time precise to the second, Ava expects to see some kind of street or maybe monument on the other side. Maybe a city somewhere far away, or even to travel to the future or the past. But no, what she sees is another living room.

She follows Sara on the other side and as soon as the portal closes Sara's hands are on her eyes.

“No peeking.”

“Sara, what-”

“ _No peeking_ , absolutely, for no reason, until I say so.”

Ava frowns, but shuts her eyes and lets Sara push her around until they come to a stop. Sara lets go of her after telling her for the third time that peeking isn't allowed, she feels her walk around her and then she's hit by the cold. Ice cold. Crippling cold.

“You can look now.”

The absolute glee in Sara's voice show have been a clue, and the cold should've been another, but as she opens her eyes she can't help but gasp at the sight before her. It doesn't snow in Star City and even when it does the snow looks like mud in two hours and it's always swept to the side of the road and even where there is enough snow, the few parks around D.C. for instance, where she's seen kids play when she passes by with her car, she never had the time to stop there herself.

But the kind of snow she sees now. It's a blanket of white so big her eyes get lost looking for the edge. It looks soft and impossibly smooth and she takes a step forward before she realizes it, only to have Sara step in front of her and shake her head, closing the door.

“First, we dress properly, because if we get sick on our only holiday in years I'll be pissed. And _then_ , we fight.”

Ava is still looking mesmerized. She catches Sara's chin between her thumb and index finger and looks at her for a long moment. She nods, pecks her lips, then bolts towards the general direction of the rest of the house, where she supposes the bedroom and their clothes are.

Before she knows it, their stepping outside. It's not snowing anymore, but the snow is fresh and she can't help but think Sara planned it to the minute.

The cottage is away from any other form of life apparently, and it's surrounded by woods all around.

“So you weren't kidding about where you'd live the rest of your days, uh?”

The only response Sara gives her is a snowball that hits her square in the chest.

“Next one is coming for your stupid perfect face!” Sara shouts the warning while chuckling and running away, knees jerking high to dug out her feet from the snow with every step, and it's an adorable sight but Ava really wants to stop smiling and fight back.

“So how does snow fighting work? We keep score? Is it to the death?”

Sara turns abruptly to ask if she's serious and she's hit right on the nose.

“That's fair. I deserved that for falling for that.”

“You kinda did, babe. I'm a clone, not a newborn baby who's never set foot in the world. Also, don't press the snow too tight, it'll hurt if you hit me in the face.”

“Look at you, Miss Rules of Snow Fights.”

Ava chuckles. “Yeah, when I was eleven my parents and I went to the-” she stops, dead in her tracks, the familiar pressure in her chest knocks the air out of her.

She blinks. Takes a breath. She raises a hand when Sara takes a rushed step towards her, making her freeze again. The smiles they sported a moment before are gone. She takes another breath, a deeper, longer one, and remembers Sara telling her she's real, as real as Sara feels about her. And she knows how Sara feels about her, how Sara thinks she's the woman she wants to spend the rest of her life with, how she's never loved anyone this much or this unconditionally. Sara feels a great many things about her and if that's real, Ava must be real, too. And what they feel about each other, that's the only thing Ava has never doubted.

“Sorry. I was saying, one of my fake memories is about a skiing resort in Vermont. I was playing with my- with Randy, and he had to teach me how to make the snowball loose enough that they wouldn't hurt but pressed enough that they would be easy to throw.”

Sara is staring at her, the concern in her eyes is gone. It takes Ava a moment to realize what is so familiar about that look. Sara looks proud of her. Ava feels a little proud, too.

The fight ends with them making angels in the snow and Sara rolling on top of her, ruining both of the angels, kissing Ava playfully and laughing so childishly, it makes Ava feel giddy and her head feels dizzy. Then Sara smashes a handful of snow on her face and they start fighting again, like the two kids in love they're turning into.

  
  


Ava Sharpe likes snow fights, snow, hot chocolate, skiing – but hates snowboarding. She hates the cold, the perpetually frozen feet, the busted lips, the blue nails. They crank up the heat and have pretty much the fireplace always on, but it's still so fucking _cold_.

They last four days.

“Sara?”

“Mhm?”

“You know I love you. And I loved being here, and I loved the snow and skiing and sitting in front of the fireplace. But babe?”

“Mhm.”

“I fucking hate the cold.”

“Oh, thank God.”

  
  


The third house Sara rented them – or maybe had Gideon hack, or simply broken into, Ava isn't sure and at this point it feels too late to ask – is an honest to Beebo house in the suburban California that looks stolen out of a movie. There's a garage and a basketball net above the garage door in the driveway and a there's a small backyard.

“So, we did the daily winter, the vacation summer, is this supposed to be the married life tryout, to see if I like being a kept woman?”

“Well, I certainly won't deny my evil plans about keeping you forever,” Sara smirks and shrugs and Ava really doesn't mind to play house for a while.

They go grocery shopping together and do laundry and cook and- God, do they fight about every goddamn chore. It takes them two days to give up. So they split the chores and, it's almost infuriating how well that works. Sara likes shopping and everything Ava wants she can write down in a list, while Sara is more of an impulse-ridden shopper, so Sara getting the grocery works perfectly. Ava likes to cook and doesn't mind the dishes, while Sara does her best work with laundry. Ava finds ironing stuff relaxing, she had to with all the button down shirts she owns, while Sara doesn't own a single piece of clothing worth ironing out. Ava has her perfect way of making the bad and doesn't want Sara to mess with it, or the way she cleans every surface. And Sara can maneuver a vacuum cleaner like nobody's business.

They try this new method for three days and if feels like they've been married their whole lives.

It's stupid how well it works, really.

  
  


They try basketball. Ava has these memories of playing. Of the odd texture of a basket ball beneath her fingers, of her heart race steady and timed when she's about to shoot to the net, she has memories of dunking and dodging and-

Ava Sharpe _sucks_ at basketball. Rip was such a dumbass. And it's such a dumb game. She hates that someone as small as Sara can beat her.

Okay, so maybe she doesn't really suck. Sara has played before and all Ava has are Rip's fake memories, but they're all a little off. So she loses to Sara and is sure Sara will never let it go. But the main thing is, she doesn't really like it. Even when she eventually manages to get the hang of it enough that Sara doesn't win – doesn't necessary loses, but it's evened out – it still sucks.

So they try baseball, football and, because “you're from Vancouver, Ava, it's in your blood”, they try hockey.

“Maybe sports aren't my thing, I have martial arts to keep me sharp. Get it, 'cause Sharpe?”

“Gosh, Aves, you're really so not funny, how did I end up in love with such a dork?”

“Hey! It was an alright joke. You're just mad the only pun with your name you thought of was in Camelot and it stopped being funny after I found out you actually did kiss Genevieve.”

“Excuse you, Lance-a-lot is still a funny pun. Although, once we get married, I'll never stop saying 'look at this sharp lance', anytime I use a knife. You got it, 'cause Sharpe-Lance.”

“Oh, _God_ , what did I get myself into.”

Then, one day, Ava finds a soccer ball in the garage and, just takes it out to the backyard on a whim. Sara's in the shower and when she wanders out, an hour later, Ava is bending the ball around casually, naturally, like she was born to play with a soccer ball glued to her feet.

“You're such a lesbian,” Sara smirks at her, but stays where she is, and keeps looking at how Ava just seems to be getting more and more comfortable each time she throws the ball in between two vases on the other end of the yard and always manages to get it inside the span.

Yeah, this is definitely a good look on her, Sara thinks.

  
  


The initial plan is to go to a club, a big one, a cool one. Because really, Sara is pretty sure she could get into anywhere with a smile and a wink. Ava isn't really on board, she mentions having memories of going clubbing that she's not really fond of, but goes along when Sara's enthusiasm carries on.

It's when they're getting ready and Sara makes some sort of joke that Ava's snarky retort makes her pause.

“You've never been to a gay club?”

“Sara, I don't think Rip even knows those exist, let alone implant the memory of one into my mind. I think the memories he fabricated of me going dancing or drinking were all purposefully boring as hell just so I'd be more likely to focus solely on work.”

It sounds as awful as it is. Sara is having exactly none of it.

So that's how Ava finds herself into a gay bar.

Her first impression is a good one. The music is enjoyable and it actually has words so that's a bonus for her, the bar seems nice enough and there are still a couple of free tables they can sit at once they have their drinks. Ava is wearing black slacks and a light grey button up with the sleeves rolled up to mid forearm, her hair loose. It's like an armor, she feels comfortable in it. Sara asked why not a dress and Ava said that she'd rather “do one uncomfortable thing at a time, thank you very much” and Sara had laughed and shrugged.

She knows Sara likes seeing her in dresses and she would have put on one for dinner or a date or even another club. But- something is just making her jittery. Maybe the club part, maybe the gay club part, maybe the Sara in a gay club part. Yeah, maybe that last part. Still, she feels on her toes and that means wearing armor into battle. And this is close enough for her.

“Want something to drink?”

Sara shrugs a little, thinking about it. “Martini?”

“I'll get it, you grab us a table? Or you wanna stay at the counter?”

“Table's fine. Don't be too long, I'll miss you.”

Ava makes a show of rolling her eyes, but she smiles. “Okay, Little Miss Drama Queen.”

She walks to the bar and away from the woman who had been literally in her sole company for the last couple of weeks.

“Two vodka martinis, extra dirty, stirred.”

The bartender smiles, one eyebrow raised. “Specific. I like that.”

Ava smiles at him politely and nods. She pays, tips him, and walks away with her two glasses looking for her Sara. She sees her sitting at the table in the far corner, because Sara can never make anything easy for her, so she's gonna have to walk around the dance floor and to the table with two full glasses in her hands. She takes a moment to thank Beebo she's not wearing heels and walks to her slowly but surely.

When she gets to the table Sara isn't alone. Why would she be. She's Sara Lance in a gay bar left unsupervised for a whole three minutes, it's fair. She's shaking her head no and her hair, straight and popping against the straps of her black dress, looks gorgeous in the dim light.

“Just one dance?”

Sara shakes her head again and is about to add something else when Ava gently, carefully, lays the glasses down onto the table, her tongue peeking out slightly of the corner of her mouth in concentration.

“Ah! Didn't spill a drop. You couldn't pick a closer table?”

“As I was telling Jen, here, I wanted to be away from the dance floor for now.”

“Oh, hi Jen,” Ava smiles politely at the woman standing next to their table. She has learned that jealousy is an unflattering and unnecessary look on her long ago, and that's not to say she isn't jealous or maybe even a little possessive and more than a bit protective of Sara, but she has learned not to let it show on her face. Not in public, at least.

She sits down on the small couch that's settled against the wall and she considers that Sara might have picked this spot because it gives them a visual of the entire room and it's something Ava often needs to calm her nerves down.

Sara is quick to say “Thank you, baby” just loud enough for the woman next to them to hear and places a kiss on Ava's cheek, a hand settling on her thigh.

As soon as Ava's hand is on the back of the couch Sara slides into her personal space, so that Ava's arm is basically resting around her shoulders, and melts a little into Ava. The hand that isn't on her thigh goes up to clear the lipstick that the previous kiss left on her cheek, gently, slowly, eyes altering between looking at the spot she's cleaning and into Ava's.

In the corner of her eye, she sees Jen walking away without a word.

“What are you looking at?” Sara whispers.

“Your hair looks really pretty in this light. Not that you're not always drop dead gorgeous, but it's really beautiful like this.”

Sara smiles and it's like the dim lit room is suddenly illuminated by a stadium's spotlight.

“Stop trying to win me over with your charm, dork.” She ducks her head like she's trying to hide her smile from Ava, like she's afraid of blushing or looking too much like she's in love.

“Why?”

“Because I'm already yours.”

Ava's breath gets stuck on her lips and she thinks maybe, one day, this woman won't constantly surprise her anymore. Today, is not that day.

There's something in her chest, warm and big and pulling at her. But in the back of her mind, there's a cold lingering thought, the thing she still hasn't told Sara, the thing that maybe, maybe, could be part of the reason she's so jittery, so on edge. She tries to listen to her heart, she tries it with every ounce of strength she can muster, but her head always talks louder. She can't stop thinking maybe she was programmed so that her head would always be louder than her heart.

Sara sips her drink. “Stirred, not shaken. You remembered.”

Ava tries again to focus on the warmth in her chest, doubling her efforts. Sara deserves for her to get better, to _be_ better. Ava has to. She _has_ to before Sara gives up on her. She has to.

“Of course. I remember everything you say,” she smiles cheekily and Sara laughs and her chest gets just a little warmer and her head is a little bit quieter.

They can do this, Ava hopes. Fake it until they make it, that is. They're doing so good, better than they ever were before, they're both sleeping through the night and the nightmares are almost nonexistent for both of them at this point. It's going good. They'll make it through.

Ava doesn't like dancing, but Sara does, so they dance. Until they're tired and Sara's a little tipsy and Ava asks for the keys so she can drive them back.

When they're going back to the suburbs they pass an hotel and Ava immediately recognizes the city they're at, she says so out loud, without thinking, telling Sara she'd been here for a convention before.

“You had the convention at that hotel?” Sara asks, a little incredulously, because it's not that fancy and the Time Bureau always seemed a little over the top for her tastes.

“No, the convention was a couple blocks over, but I ended up spending the night there becau-” she stops dead and clears her throat.

“Ava Sharpe. Did you have a one night stand there?” Sara asks with that grin that would tease a remark out of the most stoic human in the world.

Ava's hearts drop. No, Morgan slept with clone number eight, she thinks. Maybe number nine? No, nine was the ex in Vegas, so maybe number seven. One of them. But not her.

“Hey, there's no need to be embarrassed,” Sara misses the problem by a mile, her slightly tipsy state making her talk before she can properly elaborate. “We've all got a past. Would be weird if you didn't. I mean, can you imagine only being with one person all your life?”

Ava is pretty sure she can't breathe anymore.

“Even Amaya had Nate before going back to Zambesi to marry the man she was destined to be with, and she's from the 50's.”

She's not even sure she can feel her legs, but she knows they're working because the car is going so surely she's still pressing down on the pedal.

“Hell, even _Stein_ -”

“We're here,” Ava says. And she's glad because she was probably half a mile away from crashing the car and killing them both. “Let's get inside, I'm really tired.”

Sara sways a little but she gets to the front door on her own. Once inside, Ava tells her to just go on and get to bed, she's going to make herself some tea to help calm her down since the music is still ringing in her ears. Sara shrugs and kisses her cheek, then walks away.

Ava goes into autopilot, makes the tea, sits down, and the next time she blinks two hours have gone by. The tea is cold, untouched. And she just went through everything that happened in her head, everything that could happen when she tells Sara, every single fear that has been eating at her for weeks.

They've spent days wrapped up in each other, with nowhere to turn but to one another, and it has been so perfect. Now, the same close spaces that made Ava feel safe and sound are suffocating, the backyard is so small and the fact that there's no kitchen door she can shut feels like she's too exposed. The openness that has been healing them now feels like too much; the space is too small to be so unbound. She either wants miles between them or a door, so she doesn't feel like Sara could take a look at her and _know_.

She feels like there's cotton in her ears because of the loud music and she hates it. She smells like smoke and sweat and she can't think and she doesn't know how she's going to pull through. But she'll have to. She will have to do this and tell Sara and then Sara can leave her. Give up on her, like Ava expects her to.

She goes up the stairs and into the master bathroom and she spends half an hour in the shower despite it being three in the morning. The water is as hot as it will go, but she still feels cold to her very core, and she doesn't dare to ask herself if this is what is going to feel like having Sara not loving her anymore.

She dresses in the dark and tells herself it's not sneaking out, that she just doesn't want to disturb Sara's sleep, even though that doesn't explain why she doesn't leave a note behind when she slips out of the front door. She drives until she's lost, until she has no idea how to make her way back. Only then, she stops, climbs out of the car, sits on the ground and looks up at the sky. It'll be dawn soon. Yet, there's still no light.

She cries with her face in her hands, head bowed, and wonders how many deep breaths she'll have to take for this to be over, tries to remember what Nora and Nate taught her, tries to- _God_ , how many of her friends are only her friends because she's Sara's girlfriend? What if Nate doesn't want to have her over anymore, or if he doesn't text her every stupid thing Gary does just to make her laugh? What if Ray doesn't stop by her office every time he comes to visit Nora, with no reason other than to check up on her? What if Zari- Zari, who sends her memes she doesn't understand, who sends her songs and photoshopped a picture of Ava with black hair last week for no reason, texting her “you'd make a fine looking emo”? What if-

What if it's not real?

She's not real. She's not.

Why would her friendships be?

“ _You're as real as I feel about you.”_

What if she _is_? What if she is real?

She takes out her phone and makes the call before she can think better of it. It rings three times, then the voice comes through.

“ _Hey, Ava, everything ok? You guys left, like, ten minutes ago. That's a record for something to go wrong, even for us._ ”

She had connected the phone to their present through her courier, it was nice to see it actually worked.

She's silent for a long moment, clutches the phone tighter.

“ _Ava_?”

“We're friends, aren't we?” She hates how her voice cracks on the word friends, she hates how vulnerable that question makes her feel, she hates that Nate has to think about it for less than half a second.

“ _Hell yeah. Wait, are you okay? It's not been ten minutes for you, has it_?”

She doesn't answer, she just takes another breath.

“Nate. Nate, if Sara left me. Would you still-”

“ _Sara would_ never _leave you. And that has nothing to do with our friendship anyway. Sara's not the reason I'm your friend_.”

“Then what is it?”

“ _Really? Ava. You are. You gave me a chance at a normal life when I needed one, you were always encouraging and patient, even when you were being bitchy about it. You were- are the only person I could talk to about my family. I mean, sure, we hated each other a lifetime ago, but that's in the past, right_?”

“Yeah,” Ava says quietly. Then, more surely: “Yes.”

“ _Is this about the C-thing or the panic attacks_?” They don't talk about that. About those moments when Ava can't breath and Nate brings her out, they never mention them. Ava thought it was because Nate didn't want her to feel embarrassed. Maybe he's just been waiting for her to be ready to bring it up.

“The C-thing, yeah. I- Nate, thank you, by the way. For everything.”

“ _It's what friends do._ ”

He stays on the phone a little longer, until she's ready to say goodbye and tells him she'll call him soon. Nate just asks her to “take care, Aves” and at the nickname she almost starts crying again.

What she has with Sara is real, her friendship with Nate is real, her life is real.

She's real.

Sara's told her a thousand times, and tonight, when Sara was the one to make that doubt arise, Nate stepped in.

She has a safety network, she has friends, she has a family. The other clones never had that, never tried to. She's real. The rest will have to come on its own.

  
  


When she opens the door, it's been morning for a while. Sara is sitting at the kitchen counter, coffee mug between her hands, but gets up immediately when she hears the key turn in the lock.

She looks like she's about to ask a million and one different questions, but stops dead in her tracks when she sees Ava's red eyes and her slightly shaking hands, she takes a blanket from the back of the couch and walks over, wrapping it around Ava's shoulders without a word.

“Come on, I'll get you some coffee to warm you up.”

Ava follows her silently and frowns at Sara wanting to make sure she's okay before even questioning what's going on. Sara wants to take care of her. Sara loves her.

“Stop.”

It's just a whisper but it feels like everything freezes. She puts the blanket back on the couch and turns to Sara again, eyes cast somewhere behind her.

“I need to- There's something you should know.”

“Okay. Whatever it is-”

“Don't. I told you we'd need to talk about this once I was ready, and I don't know if I am, but something you said yesterday night- I know you'd have noticed if you were sober. Or if you were looking at me when we were talking about it. And I know it's stupid, but I don't want to lie to you or have to change the subject when it comes up, so we should just..” she sighs, waves her hand through the hair like she's chasing off a fly. “Get it over with. Talk it through.”

“Okay,” Sara says again. “I'm sorry I said something that hurt you, I'm-”

“You don't have anything to be sorry about.”

They sit down at the kitchen counter and Sara pours Ava some coffee before going back to sipping her own.

“I'm younger than what we thought.”

Ava has said this before, so Sara nods.

“Twelve clones means each of them lived roughly five or six months. That's so little, it's such a short life, and I thought... what did each clone do with such a short period of time? How did they spend it, was it different for each of them, was there a pattern? So I asked Gideon for the timelines on each clone up until me. Had her tweak my memories so I'd know which ones were actually only mine.”

Sara nods again, because it seems fair, it seems reasonable.

“When we talked about Morgan last night-”

“Morgan,” Sara repeats, tone a little dry.

“Morgan, the woman from the hotel. I didn't- that was clone seven, I think. My ex in Vegas was clone number nine. You said- well, you said everyone has a past, that it'd be weird if I didn't.”

“Ava, you know I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking I wasn't-”

“Sara, stop. Stop.” She takes a breath, deep, steady. “There was this mission, a low level anachronism in Munich, AVA eleven went alone, fixed it. But, she was shot pretty badly just before she went back. I thought the Bureau miraculously saved me but, nope. She died and I woke up in the med bay instead. Sara, it was- it was when you were in a coma. It was just a week or so before Stein died. Maybe a fortnight before the Beebo Day anachronism.”

There's a long silence. Ava can barely stand it.

She waits, waits until Sara can process she knew two of her, until Sara can process she might have liked another clone of her, a clone with no feelings or emotions that weren't but a pale echo of what Ava felt now. Until Sara understands what it actually means when Ava says she's younger than they thought. What it means when she says she doesn't have a past.

It's a million different thoughts, and somehow they start coming out from the stupidest one:

“That's when you started wearing your hair down. So, that's just specifically you. I mean, we _knew_ that, but-”

Ava almost laughs. But then she remembers where she was going with this.

“You said you can't imagine being with just one person a whole life. I didn't- I've never-” she stumbles on her word a little, her cheeks go slightly pink. “I've never been with anyone else. I drunk called Nine's ex in Vegas and made a dumb profile on a dating app I opened, like, twice, but I couldn't- I was still caught up in you. And then the clone thing, then we got back together. Sara, I've never-” she chuckles and shrugs a little, helplessly. “I've never kissed anyone else, I've never even _liked_ anyone else but you. And I get it if it's too much, if you-”

Sara is up before she can get another word in. She's hugging Ava tenderly, cradling her head in her hands, whispering soft word into her ear.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for that dumb thing I said yesterday. Of course I didn't mean it, and I- I know I've done that before. I speak without thinking and I say stupid stuff like that, and I hope you can forgive me. I didn't mean that, Ava, of course I didn't mean that it would be too much or that it would be a bad thing. I'm sorry.”

Ava frowns. She expected anger, bitterness, maybe confusion or for Sara to be skeptic. She doesn't know what to do with this. With this unconditional love and understanding.

“So, wait. You still want me?”

Sara lets go of her, steps back to look into her eyes. “Do I still- Ava, of course I still want you. I'm in love with you. Nothing could change that. And I think- maybe, because of how much we love each other now, maybe it makes sense, that we never actually hated each other.”

Ava takes Sara's face in her hands, tries to believe the words coming out of her mouth, tries to discern if Sara's sincere. She finds nothing but love in those beautiful blue eyes.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I've known for a couple of weeks now, I started to research it after we went to camp.”

“It's okay. You weren't ready, I get that.”

Sara smiles, but after a moment her eyes drop. It's just a second, but Ava knows something crossed her mind.

“What is it?” Ava asks and it's barely a whisper, dread making its way into her mind again.

“I wish I'd known,” Sara whispers back. “I- it's stupid, maybe. I wish- I wish I made a bigger deal out of being your first girl. Our first kiss, our first time. Maybe we should have taken it slower, maybe-”

“No. No,” Ava takes her face in her hands and leans forward to capture her lips softly, gently, a gesture meant to reassure her. “It was perfect. Everything we had, it was perfect.”

She kisses Sara again, firmer, then again, pushing her lips apart gently, tongues meeting halfway tenderly. Ava holds Sara tighter and Sara can feels herself melting into the touch.

“Let me remind you,” Ava says and it's meant as a request, but it sounds like a gentle order. Not that Sara is going to object, because feelings are overwhelming and this, this is a thing they're very good at.

They talk all of their fears about this through, once they're lying in bed, wrapped up in each other, nothing between them anymore, not literally nor figuratively.

Ava feels so silly then, for doubting Sara would ever leave her for something like this. For thinking Sara would think of her as less real for something like this.

Ava has known she was going to love Sara for the rest of her life for a while, truthfully. No matter what life was going to bring them, she knew she was going to love Sara as long as her heart was beating. But, for the first time, Ava thinks they could make it together for just as long.

  
  


Sara teaches her to ride a motorcycle, they take a sommelier class, try any food they can think of directly in the origin country.

They relearn each other, from scratch, no secrets left between them. They promise if they ever uncover new ones, each other would be the first person they tell. Sara becomes a part of her, more than ever Ava feels like she will never be able to go back to the person she was before. And the more she changes, the more they discover, the more she is assured there is nobody else identical to her in all of time. It's simply not possible. Because she's become the person she is through the experiences nobody else can have, that are hers and hers alone.

Ava Sharpe loves herself.

And that is probably the hardest thing she had to learn to like through they're whole journey, but she does it nonetheless.

Eventually, after they've tried it all, done it all a couple times, they go back to the beach house, right back to the moment they left. Except they call their friends and invite them over for a day at the beach before going back with them. Nate and Ray are thrilled about that, Zari and Charlie act grumpy but they go willingly, John and Mick are a little harder to convince and Sara decides to bribe them with beers and burgers. Gary gets a permission for Nora to be there under supervision, and they all go.

When they arrive Sara and Ava are on the shore, laughing softly at an inside joke, when the door slides open and Nate slips out while the others are still crossing and arguing over something, probably something pointless.

Ava walks to him, meets him halfway, lets him lift her off the ground and spin her around and she feels so happy to see him again.

“I missed you, the Bureau sucks without you. Never leave me again.”

“For a man made of steel, you're so soft. I missed you, too, Nate.”

“Hasn't it been, like, half an afternoon for you?” Sara asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah. A Saturday afternoon at the Bureau with Gary pining over Mona and Mona pining over a Kaupe. It's been awful, please collect your kids.”

“I'm sorry,” Ava lets him go and steps back. “I'm sorry, Mona pining over _whom_ now?”

“Nope. Not getting into that,” Nate shakes his head and peels off his shirt and all but runs to the shore.

“Ava!” Gary is next, and he hugs her like he hasn't seen her in a year. Then he proceeds to run after Nate into the water and yell “Water fight” over his shoulder.

Ray hugs her, too, passing by to get to the shore, Mick and John nod at them. Nora looks like she's going to offer her hand for a moment, but Ava steps forward and gives her a quick hug. Without letting herself think too much about it, she does the same with Zari and exchanges nods and smiles with Charlie.

The girls ends up suntanning, Mick is sitting drinking beer, the boys are playing in the water, and Sara and Ava find themselves making lunch for them, cooking burgers on the patio and talking softly to each other. They see some of their neighbors come to the fence and exchange a few words with the girls, before the boys finally get out and catch up to them.

It's loud, messy, unnerving. Ava wouldn't change them for the world.

“Do you all have your burgers?” Sara asks, once they're pretty sure they've handed over two dozens already and Mick has had at least three.

There's a choir of “Yes, mom,” from their teammates and Sara rolls her eyes and sighs.

“Take a napkin, don't just wipe with your hands, yes Mick and Zari I'm looking at you.”

“Yes, moms,” comes another choir and this time is Ava's turn to roll her eyes.

“If I had known that dating you meant dealing with your children, I would've thought about it twice.”

“Oh, please. You love the kids. We all know they're half the reason you're sticking around,” Sara scoffs at her false indigence.

Ava sighs again, shaking her head, then hands Sara her burger with a gentle kiss.

“You're lucky I love you.”

“Yes. I really, really am.”

As she looks around, she is struck with how at ease around her everyone is, how they all treat her like a part of the team, almost like family. She realizes, suddenly, that one of the things she was afraid most was just that; being alone because she had no roots, no family, no parents or relatives. But she does have a family. They're not perfect, maybe a little misguided at times, but they're her idiots and misfits, nobody else's. And she loves them all just so.

“I'm pretty lucky, too.”

Sara takes her hand and smiles like she's never been this happy before.

  
  


The second they're back home, Ava falls face-first on the couch.

Their vacation has been awesome and precious, but it's also been months lived inside a day, so it's quite a lot. Sara falls right on top of her with no complaining in mind, if Ava won't stress about immediately getting their suitcases unpacked, she's surely not gonna press the matter.

“We should shower, I have sand in my hair.”

“Director Sharpe, are you inviting me to join you in your shower?”

“Maybe, Captain Lance. Are you going to be a good girl and behave?”

“Oh, most certainly not.”

  
  


Their lives go back to normal, almost like the weeks they've been away never went by, almost like it's been a day for them like it's been a day for everyone else.

Except, Ava doesn't have panic attacks anymore. She sleeps through the night and Sara does too, her nightmares coming so rarely she isn't scared of closing her eyes anymore. Sara portals back home every night, unwilling to relearn how to sleep without Ava by her side, and it feels like finally, finally, they're at peace.

They still have a long way to go, that's for sure, but the difference is, now they know they're going to walk it together.

Ava comes home one night, to find Sara curled up on the couch watching a movie, remote still in hand, and she looks up and smiles like Ava being there is making the room so much brighter. Sara says something about how there's dinner she's already made that they just have to hit up as she turns the tv off and walks to Ava, but Ava barely hears her.

“This,” she says, once Sara is close enough that she can take her hands, “this is what I want to come home to for the rest of my life.”

“Dinner being ready or me in sweatpants?” Sara quirks an eyebrow, teasingly.

“You,” Ava says, surely, kindly but firmly.

She takes Sara's face in her hands and kisses her as so softly Sara wonders if she's afraid of breaking her for some reason.

“I'm in love with you.”

And it's not that Ava hasn't said it before, but there's something in the way she's saying it now that is making Sara's heart beat in her throat.

“You're the love of my life, Ava.”

Sara has already lived a couple of those, but she isn't sure she had ever truly lived until she knew that love, that happiness, could be like this; this easy and this perfect. And if there is one thing she knows for sure is that, no matter how many more years she has left on this Earth, she wants to spend them with Ava by her side.

It should feel like the journey they went on to get Ava her sense of identity back should be over, but instead of feeling like an ending, this feels like a beginning.

The beginning of the rest of their lives.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, not everything that worries Ava is resolved, obviously (they didn't do it in a season, I can't do that in a two chapter fic), but that is the message I wanted to send: it's okay if things aren't perfectly resolved, sometimes, we all have things that we'll bring with us for a while before we can completely get over them. But Ava resolved the things that haunted her the most (being fake and being replaced) and she can start to rebuild herself in her everyday life, too. What do you think? Goor or bad reasoning?
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


End file.
